


Lover, Man

by lluviadinoche



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Aggression, Bruises, Cheating, Denial, Domestic Disputes, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Self-Denial, Unhealthy Relationships, mentions of Poland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lluviadinoche/pseuds/lluviadinoche
Summary: While searching through Romano's things, Francis finds some letters to and from Ivan that make him open his eyes to the reality he has been denying; they do not love each other anymore.And yet, he still can't accept or admit he has fault in it.-----This is a quick oneshot that accompanies another one that I wrote through Romano's perspective. I thought it would be interesting to show Francis' POV when it happens as his character is so complex and fun to write. This takes place during the time Romano would have been living with France and you can see more notes on that on the original :)To read the original one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839785/chapters/68805006
Relationships: France/South Italy (Hetalia), Russia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Kudos: 7





	Lover, Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky/gifts).



_ ‘My Dearest Ivan, _

_ Often I wonder how many more nights I must put on an image of loyalty for Francis. It is not as if he attempts one with me - that flame has long since died. _

_ The man I lay with now is a stranger to me. He is not the one who used to make me feel the most peace in the world. He now stirs the wars in my head. _

_ To you, I am your Lovino and it warms the coldest parts of my lost heart. _

_ To him. I am his pet, his jewel, his property-’ _

Francis' hand shook against his mouth as he bit down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

He looked at another letter - this one from Ivan - and his blood only boiled more.

_ ‘You are held in the deepest parts of my soul - the sun reaching wherever you touch’ _

_ ‘I have met God and on his lips lay your name which the angels sang. Dearest Lovino! Among the stars it is written’ _

Something pressed down on his chest and when that door opened, it only pressed harder.

_ Dearest Lovino… _

That was his name?

That was the name he dreamed of being dear enough to be told for so long - only to lose interest after conversations of how it was a dirty name to Romano. A name that displayed him as property.

And…he gave it to another man.

He tapped his foot against the leg of the bed, the sound of his shoe against it being the only thing that was keeping him grounded.

Finally, his eyes shot up, piercing through the man at the doorway. Something inside him took great pleasure at the way he seemed petrified before him.

As it should have been.

He knew better. He knew better than to think that he could do something like this. To run behind his back whispering sweet words to someone else when those - when  _ he _ belonged to him.

He was his! He wanted to scream it. Francis could feel the very concept of losing his hold over him slipping through his fingers. He wanted to throw things, break things, shake Romano until he sobbed and begged for his forgiveness.

Only his.

His darling treasure.

_ His pet. _

“You told me you didn’t use your human name. That you didn’t want to encourage Spain by giving it to anyone. It seems you’re fine with encouraging him when it’s Ivan that is the one speaking sweet words to you.” he finally spoke.

Could a heart really shatter if it was already charred?

He knew it when he looked at those bags under Romano’s eyes and the bruises on his chin from being grabbed so roughly far too many times. He knew it when he read the love in these letters to Ivan. He knew the answer now as he felt his own throat tighten and his hands shake. He dug his nails into his own leg trying to deny it.

But their love died long ago.

Nights where he’d lay awake by the fire just to bask in Romano’s words - back when such writing remained private for his eyes only. Love where Romano placed his hands to his face and promised the heavens above to him. The love where they lay underneath a tree simply to exist in the other’s presence and avoid the turmoil of reality for just an afternoon.

His tongue went dry wondering if he pressed ‘I love you’ in between his kisses with Ivan.

And all he could do, despite seeing how a paled Romano shook in front of him now, was blame  _ him _ .

“You live with  _ me _ may I remind you, South Italy.” his voice quaked, “It is  _ my _ home that you live in.  _ My _ bed is the one that you have slept in. It is  _ me _ who you came to after leaving Spain. Not Russia. So tell me,  _ my pet _ . Why are you giving  _ him _ your name that was oh too personal to give to me?”

He shot forward, grabbing his wrists, unable to keep himself composed any longer. He shook him, wanting to know. He shook him wanting to give the hurt he felt to him; something he always wanted.

Why? Why? Why why why why why why!

Why couldn’t he stop doing this?

Why couldn’t he let go and admit that this wasn’t love?

And when Romano went silent, it turned his sight red.

“Tell me!” he demanded, wishing he hadn’t run dry of tears years ago. All he wanted to do as he continued to shake him was cry, “Tell me why you went and snuck around to be with him! Tell me why you thought I was not enough for you, Lo-vi-no! Explain and give me one reason I shouldn’t burn these in front of you right now!”

How many paintings did he have of his face? He’d painted him more times than he could count and it was all he could see as he looked at him. Strokes of paint and the light blush he loved to add to his cheeks over and over. 

They looked so hollow now.

He looked so empty now.

Where had that light gone?

Words kept spilling from his mouth but he didn’t know any of them. He could hear his voice and he could see the way Romano’s face seemed so lost from this world - but he couldn’t stop.

He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore.

Shoving Romano down, he glared more, not recognizing the face he was looking at as the youthful one he’d kissed so many times once before morality turned more and more grey. Back when he was the moon and he was the sun and they danced around with each other with a love that could have knocked the strongest men down.’ And it fell

Was it even his place to criticize with hidden letters from Feliks?

“You’re mine, Lovino.”

He would anyway.

It was all he said as he walked out and he didn’t think Romano heard anyway. Not that it mattered - his pet had slipped through his fingers and there was nothing he could really do about tha t. 

_ You’re mine _ ...but was he?

He hadn’t been his for a long time now and he knew it well. It stayed on the side of his brain every time they fought, every time he yanked him back when he attempted to walk away. It was present in kisses that tasted of soured wine. It was all too painfully obvious every time that he looked at him and there was nothing in his eyes but disdain and the ghost of an angel; he'd plucked the feathers from his wings one by one.

Hands went down to the pendant he had and he had to stop. He stood there in the hallway running his fingers over every delicate detail of it.

_ ‘It’s for protection’ _ Romano had told him with all the love in the world.

He fell against the wall, a miserable sob finally breaking through.

“It’s for protection…” he repeated to the empty hallway.

Lovino.

The name still pressed fresh on his mind.

His name was Lovino.

What he wouldn’t give to go back to when life felt bea utiful.


End file.
